Guilty
by StarLight9
Summary: When Legolas is accused of a serious crime, King Elessar would do anything to prove his friend’s innocence. But as more clues are revealed, he might wish he had never learned the truth. Teitho Third Place Winner.
1. The Dangerous Villain

**Guilty**

_**Rated: **__T (for some blood and violence)_

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own any recognizable characters or places._

_**Summary: **__When Legolas is accused of a serious crime, King Elessar would do anything to prove his friend's innocence. But as more clues are revealed, he might wish he had never learned the truth._

_**Note:**__ Written for Teitho Challenge: Whodunit. The challenge was to write a detective story. I have to warn you that the story will lead to some unexpected discoveries :-) Teitho Third Place Winner :-)_

_**Note 2:**__ The story is complete, but I'll post it in three chapters because it's too long to be read all at once. Updates will come quickly, as long as I've given enough people the chance to read. Feedback is very welcome, as usual._

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_**Chapter 1: The Dangerous Villain**_

-

The guards stepped away fearfully, making way for the King. Their liege strode forward determinedly and showed no sign that he had noticed them. A frown of frustration marred the regal brow, and the stormy grey eyes were filled with disbelief and desperation.

King Elessar passed by the guards and headed deeper into the dungeons. Finally he stopped by a thick oak door, guarded by three heavily armed men, who looked unnaturally nervous.

Aragorn had to suppress a sigh. Three men set to guard a single prisoner! Ah, yes, he had forgotten, it was not _simply_ a _single prisoner_. It was a single, extremely dangerous, insane captive, whose only purpose was to destroy them all. And, what was worse, he was an elf, which meant that he could cast a spell on them and turn them into sheep, stones, beetles, or even scrambled eggs. The King had heard enough tales and knew painfully well the legends his subjects told about the fair folk, and all of his attempts to put an end to this ignorance had been futile.

"Open the door," he said, his voice calm and firm.

The three guards turned a shade paler and exchanged a worried glance. Had their King gone mad?

"I said, open the door," Aragorn pointed out as calmly as possible when his words produced no reaction.

"But, my Lord –" One of the men tried to protest, but the ice-cold glare he received made the blood in his veins freeze.

"Do I need to open it myself?" The King asked softly, barely containing his anger.

The guards looked at each other indecisively. They seemed to be forced to choose between either facing their lord's ire or opening the door and being turned into scrambled eggs by the elven sorcerer. Neither of the options seemed pleasant, and all three of them looked down, shifting nervously on their feet.

Aragorn sighed in desperation and snatched the keys from one of the men's hands. The three stunned guards watched in horror as their king turned the key and the heavy door opened with a loud crack. _I wonder if this is the thickest door they have in the dungeons here_, Aragorn wondered briefly. He had no doubt that it was.

The slender figure of the extremely dangerous and insane prisoner rose and walked towards the king. He could take no more than two steps, however, as the heavy chains that tied him to the wall stopped his movement.

The guards looked away, afraid that simply the power of the clear azure gaze was enough to turn them into something unnatural. Their hearts pounded wildly, and beads of sweat rolled down the pale foreheads. One of them dropped his spear and crouched to take it, his eyes fixed the entire time on a very interesting stone on the floor.

"For Valar's sake, Legolas, will you ever visit a village and not be arrested?" The King asked, his voice a peculiar mixture of desperation, helplessness, anger, and the slightest hint of amusement.

The 'dangerous prisoner' smiled guiltily. "I am sorry, _mellon nin_, I really am. I admit I wanted to see you, but not in this manner. I did not mean any trouble to you. I am sorry you had to come all the way here."

"It is not your fault," the king said resignedly. He had received the news two days ago and had left immediately. And the news had been disturbing, although not surprising. In the village of Teloth in South Gondor, Legolas had been arrested for setting a fire to a house that had burnt completely. A woman had claimed that she had seen a creature with long golden hair amidst the flames.

Naturally, this was impossible. First of all, if Legolas had really wanted to burn a house, he would not have been so foolish not to hide his hair. Second, there was no possible reason the elf would have wanted to burn a house. Aragorn had no doubt what had caused the woman to see the golden hair, and unfortunately the realization was not encouraging at all.

When King Elessar had sat upon the throne of Gondor twelve years ago, he had been prepared to face many challenges. But there was something he had never anticipated. He had never expected the animosity and fear with which the uneducated people regarded the fair folk. He was pleased to see that men in Minas Tirith had more or less overcome their prejudices, probably because the fair Queen they all loved was an elf, but folk in the faraway villages had made no progress. The bedtime stories told to little children were often legends about elven sorcerers, who stole the naughty and disobedient children and turned them into their witless slaves. Some of the tales, Aragorn had to admit, were quite interesting and enjoyable to listen to, but, unfortunately, they were harmful beyond measure.

The entire madness had begun two years ago, when Legolas has visited one of the small Gondorian villages. The King had been shocked to receive the news that the Lord of Ithilien had been charged with pig theft and arrested. It had taken a fair amount of time to prove the elf's innocence. After that Legolas had had an elaborate series of misadventures and absurd charges, but the trials had gone relatively well. A letter from the king had usually been enough to ensure his release.

This time, however, it was different. The village mayor had refused to release the elf due to the severity of the crime. An entire house had burned, and this was considered a serious offence. Besides, all evidence, meaning the single witness, pointed against the elf.

"Release him!" Aragorn said, his voice firm and allowing no objections.

The guards exchanged nervous glances, once again doubting their king's sanity. The two simple facts that the heavy door was open, and that the strange creature had spoken, were frightening enough, and they had no desire to endanger themselves any further.

Aragorn sighed at the men's lack of response and was about repeat his order, when Legolas suddenly spoke. "Leave us alone," he said and suppressed his smile when all three of the men jumped in unison.

Although the guards desired nothing more than to leave and be as far away from the elf as possible, they could not go. They were not accustomed to taking orders from a prisoner, even less from a magical one. The youngest of them, a boy of eighteen with dark hair and dark blue eyes, looked pleadingly at his King, almost begging him to repeat what the elf had just said and make them leave.

Aragorn's suppressed anger was mixed with pity, for pity was the only emotion he could feel towards those men, who had never had the pleasure of knowing any elves. "Do as he says," he said. "Leave us alone."

The guards obeyed eagerly and rushed up the stairs. Aragorn gazed after them in wonder. He would have probably laughed if his friend had not been chained to the wall.

"I think this is a bad idea, Aragorn," the elf said as soon as the three figures disappeared from sight and hearing range. "Telling them to release me," he continued as an answer to the man's unspoken question.

The King frowned and looked at him in surprise. "But, Legolas, you have done nothing wrong! They cannot keep you here!"

"It is the law to arrest someone, suspected of setting a fire to a house," the elf argued.

Aragorn smiled. "I am the law, my friend. If I tell them to release you, they have no choice but obey."

"And this is precisely why you should not do this," the elf replied thoughtfully. "This would be a very bad example. It would be the same as telling your people 'The laws apply to everyone… except to the King's friends.'"

Aragorn nodded. "Unfortunately, you are right. But I cannot leave you here! This is ridiculous – they have no real proof!"

Legolas sighed sadly. "Proof or not, I am guilty in their minds, and it will be hard to convince them otherwise."

The King raised his head to meet his friend's eyes, and his face was set in a grim determination. "When is your trial?" He asked.

"In a week," Legolas replied softly and shuddered imperceptivity. It was too soon for him to be calm, but at the same time far away enough to make him nervous. He preferred it to be here and now, and have it over with.

"A week is enough," Aragorn muttered. "I will find a way to prove your innocence, my friend, I swear!" He stated solemnly. _And if I cannot, I will order them to release you, and I could not care less about setting a bad example_, he added in his mind. _I will not let you rot here_.

"I know you will," Legolas said with a smile. "But be careful – Elves are feared here. If you show your friendliness towards me, you might put yourself into danger."

"This is my kingdom, Legolas what could happen?" The man sighed under his friend's stern look. "Agreed, I will be careful, I promise," he conceded. "But I have to say I am impressed by your personal development, _mellon nin_," he added with a fond smile. "You started your path as a pig stealer, and now you are a fire starter. You are progressing really fast."

The elf snorted. "Well, I suppose I must have been influenced by the King in whose realm I live now. I have never had this kind of trouble before."

"That must be the reason," the former ranger admitted with a grin. Then his eyes turned serious and he clasped his friend's chained forearm. "I will be back before you know it, I promise. I just wish I could order them to remove those chains."

"You have done enough, thank you," Legolas said with a reassuring smile. "I will be waiting for your return."

The man tried to return the smile, but failed miserably. He had not seen his friend for four months and had missed him terribly. He had longed to see him again, and now his wish was granted, but he was seeing his friend chained in a cell over a crime he had not committed. It pained him to watch the elf that way, but he tried to ignore his gloomy thoughts as he left the cell and closed the oak door behind him. The sooner he left, the sooner he would be able to prove his friend's innocence.

Legolas waited for the door to close, and listened as the sound of his friend's footsteps slowly receded, and his eyes welled with moisture. "I am sorry I couldn't tell you, Estel," he whispered in the darkness. "I am so sorry."

---

The King of Gondor sat crossed-legged amidst the ashes, not caring that his clothes were covered with dirt. He had lit his long wooden pipe and was smoking contently. He had rarely smoked after he had been crowned, but he needed it now to clear his thoughts.

He inhaled the smoke and left it in his lungs for a second, staring at the ash-covered ground. Then he slowly exhaled, and the irregular shapes the smoke took before his face soothed his troubled mind.

The easiest way to prove that Legolas had not burned the house was to find who had actually done it. But who would have burned this house and why?

Why? This was a key. He had to find who had a reason to burn he house, and in this way he would discover who had done it.

After he had thought of a reason, he would need to find when exactly the house has been burned and check who had been able to do it at this time. Also, he would need to check how it was set on fire, and who would have had access to the materials needed.

He had not realized that he had stopped smoking. His right hand was playing carelessly with his pipe, and his left hand lightly stroked his short beard. Thoughts about possible reasons ran through his mind, as he stared at the ashes of the burnt house.

There were two main possibilities why the house was set on fire. Option one – the attack was directed against the owner of the house by someone who wanted to harm him. Option two – the attack was directed against Legolas. The lighting of the house has been only a means to have him arrested.

But why would anyone want Legolas arrested? Of course, it was possible that it was someone who was afraid of the elves, and wanted to get rid of the one who had come to visit their village. Or it was possible that the fire starter hated Legolas personally, for what reason, the King could not begin to fathom.

The thought of the woman who had seen Legolas crossed his mind. Has she really seen golden hair? Has the one who started the fire worn a blond wig to deceive any possible witnesses? Or had the long hair been just a product of light and shadow and her imagination?

Or maybe the woman was a part of the plot? Maybe the fire was started by someone she new? Maybe they were so afraid of Legolas, that they have done it to have the elf securely chained in the dungeon? Or maybe someone close to her, a husband or a brother, hated the owner of the house and had set it on fire, and she had lied to protect him, knowing fully well that the villagers would easily believe the elf story? The possibilities were numerous, and he felt that he needed to talk to this woman.

Suddenly someone next to him cleared his throat, and he was taken out of his thoughts. When Aragorn looked up, he saw a short man with a disproportionally large belly, grey hair and small dark eyes, that moved around surprisingly fast.

"I am honored you have visited my land, my Lord," he said, his voice loud and solemn. "I am Moris and this is my house… umm… this _was_ my house."

Aragorn stood up and nodded at the man. Moris looked around indecisively, not sure what to do. He had never seen a king before and had no idea how he was supposed to act or speak. He even wondered if he was supposed to bow or not, but finally decided that this king looked too filthy to be bowed too. Finally Moris simply grinned the way he would have grinned at one of his old friends and handed Aragorn a small parchment.

"This is my list," he stated proudly.

"List?" Aragorn looked at him questioningly. "A list of what?"

"Of everything that was in my house," Moris answered. "Of course, I expect a full compensation for everything that has burned."

A year ago King Elessar had passed a new law. Whenever any of the Gondorian subjects lost property due to a natural disaster, such as flood, forest fire, or an earthquake, the treasury would assist their recovery. This fire was not a natural disaster, but obviously Moris did not care.

Surprised by the man's boldness, Aragorn looked through the list. Two armchairs, a wooden table, a hunting bow, a pair of boots… He could not concentrate on the list right now and put it into his pocket. "Worry not, you will be compensated," he murmured. Right now this was his least concern.

The man's face beamed. "Thank you my Lord! There are some things of great value to me that are lost forever, but I am sure you will do all in your power. Am I going to be compensated in goods or in money? And when will I receive it?"

Aragorn sighed. Moris' boldness was slowly creeping on his nerves. "You will receive it when I decide. I need you to answer a few questions first." The man nodded eagerly, and the king continued. "Where were you when the fire happened?"

"I was hunting in the woods with a group of friends," Moris replied.

"Hunting?" Aragorn raised an eyebrow in surprise and took out the list. "You have written down that your hunting bow has been in the house when it burned."

The man blushed. "Oh, maybe I made a mistake. Just scratch the bow from the list, it was with me. I do not need to be compensated for it."

Aragorn frowned. Had the man lied about the hunting trip? He could easily ask those 'friends' Moris had claimed to have gone with him, but they could lie as well.

However, the king considered another explanation, which seemed to him more likely. Moris had really gone hunting, and his bow had really been with him. He had added it to the list on purpose, to receive additional money. But if the man was able to do that for wealth, what else was he ready to do? Was it possible that Moris had set fire to his own house hoping to receive compensation greater than the true value? Was it possible that he had been the one who had framed Legolas? Had he accused the elf only to make the king himself come to Teloth?

So many questions, and all of them impossible to answer without knowing more about the village and its inhabitants. And what was the best place to find that information? He knew. Unfortunately, it was no place for a king. Aragorn smiled. He could not remember a time when this had stopped him.

---

Evening at the "Grey Rabbit" was noisy as usual. The innkeeper poured a mug of ale to a young man with wavy auburn hair, who sipped thirstily. A large man, seemingly drunk, passed by the boy and shoved him, making him spill the liquid all over his clothes. The young man said something that would have made his mother blush, and pushed the larger drunkard into one of the wooden tables.

Many of the man cheered and joined the fight. The innkeeper shook his head. A lot of liquor was spilled, but as far as he was paid for it, he did not care.

Suddenly his attention was brought to the door, which cracked open. A man entered, and the fight stopped momentarily, so that everyone could give him a proper stare. It was a rare occurrence for a stranger to visit "The Grey Rabbit", and everyone examined him with arisen curiosity.

The stranger looked travel-worn and scruffy. His dark coat was dusty, cut and sewn at many places. His boots were caked in mud. A hood cast a shade over his face, but they could still see locks of dark hair, and two eyes, shining like molten silver. He was tall and his stride was graceful and soft, and when his piercing gaze turned towards them, they quickly looked away.

The innkeeper approached him, still looking at him in interest. "Can I be of any help, master –"

"Mirdel," the tall man supplied. "My name is Mirdel. Yes, I am looking for a room to stay for the night and some good ale."

"We have some rooms available, and I hope my ale is good enough for your liking, master Mirdel," the innkeeper said. He could not take his eyes off the man. He could swear he had seen this face somewhere, but it was too covered with dust and shadowed by the hood, and he could not tell where.

The stranger thanked him, and after receiving the key for his room and a mug of ale, he retreated to a table in the corner, where he sat down and lit his pipe. The men in the inn had already forgotten his presence, and many of them had resumed the fight.

The disguised king let the smoke of his pipe hide his face even further and relaxed, carefully listening to every conversation in the room. For someone who stepped in an inn for the first time it would have sounded like a maddening cacophony of indistinguishable noises, but the former ranger had had decades of training, and could easily pick out the different voices.

Two men at a table next to his had a very passionate argument. One of them accused the other that the fish he sold had not been fresh, and his children had been sick after eating it. The other one replied, rather shouted, that his fish was always fresh, and the argument soon grew physical and the two men rolled to the floor, hands viciously pulling at each other's hair.

Aragorn sighed. This was very interesting, but it had nothing to do with the fire. His attention turned to another conversation.

"You saw him?" A boy no older than sixteen asked in awe.

"Yes," a grey-haired man said and smiled proudly. "I saw the elf just after they had arrested him and were taking him to the dungeons."

"What did he look like?" The boy asked, his eyes huge in wonder.

"Well, he is just as vicious as everybody says," the older man continued. "His eyes were cold and evil. The instant he looked at me, I felt my heart stop."

The boy gasped. "He didn't turn you into anything unnatural?"

"I was fortunate that day," the man said. "But I have to admit that in my entire life I had never been more afraid."

Aragorn needed all of his self-control not to interfere. His grip on the pipe tightened in suppressed anger and he tried to ignore the conversation. To call Legolas' crystal clear eyes 'evil' was the greatest wrong one could ever do.

"When are we doing it?" A hooded man from another table asked quietly. There was something in his tone that caught Aragorn's attention, and he listened carefully.

"In four days," another one replied just as quietly, obviously thinking that no one could hear him. But he had failed to take into account the former ranger's keen hearing. "There will be a new moon then, and the night will be dark."

Aragorn tensed. Whatever those man were planning to do, if they needed the cover of the night it could not be good. But whether it had anything to do with the fire at all, he could not yet tell.

The king listened carefully, and his eyes widened in disbelief. They were planning to rob the mayor's house, the wealthiest one in the village! Even if this had no connection to the fire, he needed to find out more.

Midnight had passed long ago, and many of the visitors started to leave the inn. Some of them were too drunk to walk on their own legs, and their companions carried them out. The group of bandits was one of the last ones to leave, and when they rose and walked out, Aragorn promptly stood up and followed them.

The group of men entered the stables, and the disguised king waited a few minutes before he followed. The stables were dark, and all horses seemed to be asleep. There was no sign that men had recently been there. Aragorn looked around confused, but suddenly gasped in pain and surprise as a heavy object was slammed against his temple. He fell forward, but caught himself and turned back.

Before him stood a young man, not older than twenty-five, holding a wooden chair. His eyes were wide and scared. Obviously this was the first time he had tried to stun someone by a blow on the head, and he had failed.

_Almost failed_, Aragorn thought bitterly, as his vision swam before him. The floor of the stables seemed to be rocking like the deck of a ship, and he had a hard time staying on his feet.

He tried to regain control over his senses when he noticed that seven men had surrounded him. One of them, a dark-eyes bandit maybe ten years older than the first one, laughed dryly. "Did you think we never noticed you were watching us?" He asked.

Aragorn mentally chastised himself. In his ranger years the people he followed never noticed his existence. He had clearly started to lose his good shape.

Everything that followed seemed to him to happen in slow motion. Two men lunged at him, and he kicked the first one in the stomach and punched the other one in the face. But then a huge hand grabbed his and held it in its iron grip. As he was trying to free himself, he never noticed the dagger thrown at him, and the only thing he could do when it embedded itself in his shoulder was cry out in pain.

And then he felt a pair of enormous hands around his neck. He tried to reach a weapon, and when he found none, he dug his fingernails into the rough skin, but to no avail. The grip tightened around his throat, and he felt as if his lungs would explode.

The grip tightened even further and Aragorn could feel his airways becoming narrower and narrower. He could not breathe. No air could get in or out of his lungs.

No! He could not give in! He could never leave Gondor without a ruler, and he would never leave Arwen and Eldarion. Moreover, if he never returned, Legolas would be charged with this bloody fire. But it was so hard to fight, so impossibly hard!

Bright yellow dots danced before his vision, and amidst them he could see the grinning faces of the bandits. His hands, which had until now worked to free himself from the iron grip, fell listlessly to his sides.

He could feel someone kick him in the ribs, but the pain was numb and distant. He could feel someone yank the dagger out of his wound, and he felt his own blood flow out. The bright spots had long ago been replaced by a crimson haze, thick and impenetrable. The only thing he could do now was to silently beg his loved ones for forgiveness.

"I am a careless fool," was his last thought, as his body slid to the floor completely limp.

---

**TBC**

9


	2. Regrets

_Thank you so much for the great reviews! This chapter might be a bit confusing, but the next one will answer all of your questions, I promise ;-)_

_**Chapter 2: Regrets**_

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Clouds had concealed the moon and stars, and the only light the guard could see was the torch burning gloomily before the prison walls. One of them startled in surprise and sat up straight when he noticed something coming their way.

What he had first thought to be a ghost turned out to be a slender figure, dressed in a hooded cloak which covered it completely. The dark silhouette walked directly towards the prison gate, and the two guards crossed their spears in front of it.

"You cannot pass," one of them said, although his voice trembled slightly.

"I have come to visit the elven prisoner," the figure said.

"You cannot visit him," the guard said, his resolve slightly wavering.

The hood suddenly fell down and the two guards gasped in shock. They have seen this face only occasionally on a portrait in the town hall, but it was not a face one would easily forget. They dropped their spears and bowed respectfully, letting the figure in.

About half an hour later, the hooded figure walked out. The two bowed again as watched as the slender form disappeared into the darkness.

---

A rooster sang merrily, indicating that morning had come. The guard who was on shift yawned and settled to do his morning task. It was a task which he despised and feared deeply. He had to bring food to the prisoners.

He had no trouble giving food to the ordinary prisoners, but as soon as he reached the thick oak door, his heart stopped beating. Every time he faced this prisoner he had the feeling that the elf would look at him, utter the magic word, and turn him into scrambled eggs.

He unlocked the door and carefully peeked inside. What he saw made him gasp in shock and drop the plate.

Something was definitely wrong with this elf. Yes, he still had the same pointed ears and the same strange glow. But something was different. First of all, the elf was not chained to the wall. Second, his long silky hair was not golden anymore, but dark as the night. And third, he… was a _she_.

---

Legolas ran forward, his heart beating in panic and his eyes stinging with unshed tears. If something had happened to his friend, he would never forgive himself.

_This is not your fault_, Aragorn would say. But he didn't know.

No, Estel didn't know. It was entirely his fault. Only his.

The elf stopped to catch his breath and whimpered in distress. How could everything go so terribly wrong!

He continued his wild flight from the prison to the village, a firm resolve in his eyes. He would tell Aragorn everything when he found him. _If_ he found him.

Legolas tried to push the dark thoughts away, but they refused to leave him. He could still see Arwen's teary face when she had entered his cell. And the softly whispered words still sounded in his mind.

_Estel is gone._

Fortunately, Arwen hadn't meant 'gone' in the sense Legolas had first thought. Or at least he hoped it would not turn out to be so.

By 'gone' she had meant 'disappeared'. She had sent men from his escort to look for him, but no one had found anything so far, and they had been looking for days. Her last hope has been Legolas since the elf knew Aragorn well and could guess where he might have gone.

The queen had taken a small needle and had opened the chains. Where the Lady had learned this skill, he did not wish to imagine. Then she had asked him to leave in her place and go and search for her beloved.

Legolas had been reluctant to leave Arwen in the prison, but finally his worry for his friend had turned out stronger. He had covered himself with Arwen's cloak, and had passed by the guards unrecognized.

He could remember vividly holding the distressed _elleth_ in his arms, trying to comfort her. But he needed comfort himself. He could only hope that it would not be too late to correct the great wrong that he had done.

Legolas sighed in helplessness and frustration. What could he do that the men from the escort hadn't done already? He was a prisoner, and was prosecuted in the village. People would recognize him easily and he would be arrested anew.

He tried to push away his despair and think about his advantages. The elf could more or less guess Aragorn's way of thinking, and this gave him the ability to follow the man. One of the things that his friend had told him a long time ago was that the best way to learn something is to visit the local inn.

Legolas passionately disliked inns, actually he hated them, and maybe even feared them. But right now that was the least he could do.

The elf looked back one last time and headed towards "The Grey Rabbit".

---

"I have no idea how this happened." The Queen of Gondor smiled innocently at the perplexed guard. "I entered the cell, and the prisoner was free of his chains. He took my cloak and left."

Two more guards came and led Arwen out of the cell, mumbling apologies for not being able to protect her from the 'vicious elf'. Obviously, they had forgotten that she was an elf herself.

She smiled inwardly at their foolishness, but had to blink to stop a tear from rolling down her smooth cheek. If Legolas failed, she was lost. Not even for her son would she be able to continue living. A part of her heart was ripped away and lost, and only Legolas was able to find it.

---

The man, who was the cause for the Queen's sorrow, was rudely awoken by a rough hand, slapping his cheek. His face was drenched in water, obviously in an attempt to revive him.

"Speak!" One of the bandits who had attacked him hissed, forcefully pulling his tunic. "Are you traveling alone? Does anyone else know of our plans?"

The words barely registered in Aragorn's mind. He was still dizzy, and his head felt as if Gimli and a large part of his kin were locked inside and were trying to get out by splitting it with their axes.

"Are you going to answer, scum?" The man's voice was louder this time.

Aragorn opened his mouth to say something, but his throat felt incredibly dry. All he wanted was a sip of water and the pain to go away.

"I can give you a lesson how to talk to me if you think you need one," one of the bandits threatened.

Another man placed a hand over his forearm in a calming gesture. "Peace, Korin, he is still dazed. Give him time to think."

Korin nodded and the bandits left the room, leaving their captive alone. "Do not get too hopeful," one of the men called. "We will come back."

Aragorn stared at the closed door, surprised that he was still alive. Apparently the bandits wanted to question him and make sure no one else knew their secret.

He was breathing heavily, and every breath he took was painful. Some of his ribs were badly bruised, hopefully not cracked or broken. He rose with some effort to a sitting position, and leaned his back against the wall, his hand instinctively going to his pocket.

A wide smile spread across the former ranger's face. They had not taken his pipe. His pipe-weed and flint were also there.

Smoking was a very bad idea in his condition, but he wanted to calm his racing heart and organize his thoughts. However, after the first breath he coughed violently, and placed down the pipe with some disappointment. Maybe this could wait.

Aragorn closed his eyes and tried to ignore the pain. Most probably he was going to spend a long time in this cell, so it seemed like a good idea to use it thinking. From what he had seen, those bandits and the planned burglary of the mayor's house had nothing to do with the fire, and he had just been fortunate to discover it while he had been looking for the fire starter. _This is a strange definition of 'fortunate'_, he thought humorlessly.

Fortunately or not, he had discovered a crime he had not been looking for. Now he only had to figure out who had set the fire. But who would want to burn Moris' house. Did the man have any enemies? He had meant to ask him this, but his lie about the hunting and the bow had distracted him.

Somehow, Moris didn't appear to him to be a man with many enemies. To gain an enemy, Aragorn thought, one needed to do something bold that would anger someone. He didn't know Moris very well, but he had the vague impression that the man was a coward.

But who would have done it then? Aragorn couldn't resist his urge and took a tentative pull from his pipe. It didn't cause another coughing fit, so he took a longer one. What did he know about Moris?

First of all, the man seemed to be greedy, and his moral wasn't exceptionally high. Judging from the list, he was not very wealthy and was a passionate hunter.

Hunter.

A sudden thought came to his mind, but Aragorn immediately brushed it away. It was the only possibility he had not considered so far, and it looked completely impossible.

And yet, Moris was a passionate hunter. There was nothing wrong with that, of course, he had himself often gone hunting. But still, there were sometimes certain exceptions. And there was something Moris had said that worried him greatly.

_There are some things of great value to me that are lost forever._

Could it be what he thought it was? Trembling fingers reached inside his pocket and took out the list, which he hadn't read until the end. Two armchairs, a wooden table, a hunting bow, a pair of boots, a coat, a carpet, hunting trophies, a bed and a pillow…

Aragorn stood up so quickly, that a sharp pain passed through his wounded chest. He felt to his knees with a cry and buried his face in his hands.

_No! Ai, Valar, no! No, it is not possible!_

He finally raised his face, and his eyes were haunted by shock and betrayal. He knew who had burnt the house. His quest was complete. Now he could only wait for the bandits to come and question him.

And they did.

---

Legolas stopped and raised an eyebrow at the two men staring at him. One of them was young with greasy dark hair, and the other was elderly and short. Their eyes were wide as apples and their mouths were wide open.

"Can I help you?" The elf asked, barely hiding his amusement.

"You… you are the elf!" The younger one mumbled.

"How insightful of you to notice," Legolas remarked in mock admiration.

"You must be in prison!" The man stated, sounding bolder this time.

"Indeed. And what are you going to do about it? Tell the guards that I am here?" The two men stood like frozen. "Do you want to be turned into scrambled eggs?" They both violently shook their heads. "I thought so. Then go back home and don't tell anyone that you have seen me. If you do, I will know. And I can turn you into anything I want, even from a distance. Do you understand?"

The men nodded vigorously and ran away. Legolas watched them with a smile. It would have been so easy to escape those frightened people, but he didn't want to escape. He wanted to be released. But he had no choice now, he had to find Aragorn.

The thought of his friend made his eyes turn sad once again, and his pace quickened. Finally, he reached the "Grey Rabbit" and sighed in disappointment. It was early morning and the inn was closed. He crouched and looked at the tracks on the ground. They were too many. Men had walked, been dragged, and been carried. Besides, his if friend had been there, it had been a few days ago, and many men had walked here after that. It was impossible to find the tracks he was looking for.

Finally he walked towards the locked door of the inn and knocked, hoping that someone would be inside. A short man opened the door. His face was covered in sweat and there was a broom in his hand. As soon as he saw who had paid him a visit, he gaped and stared in disbelief.

"Good morning," Legolas said softly, trying not to scare the man. "You need not fear me, I will not harm you. I am looking for someone and I need your help."

The innkeeper nodded hesitantly. "You are not going to do any of your magic on me, are you?" He asked.

Legolas had the sudden desire to strangle someone. Those people were consistently trying to make him go mad. "Not as long as you help me," he replied, his voice colder this time.

"I will help you if I can," the innkeeper said. "Come inside, I will serve you some of my ale, it is excellent, I guarantee, and then we can talk."

Legolas winced inwardly. He had no desire to drink ale, excellent or not, but he didn't want to insult the man. So he entered and reluctantly took the offered mug.

"The man I am looking for is a stranger to this village," Legolas said, desperately hoping that he would find the information he needed and leave before he would have to taste the ale. "He must have visited your inn two or three days ago. He is tall and –"

"And has eyes the color of a stormy sky," the innkeeper continued. "His stride is graceful, he likes to smoke his pipe, and although he looks scruffy, there is something noble in his bearing. You are looking for Mirdel."

Legolas nodded eagerly, a ray of hope reaching his heart. The name the innkeeper had said was unfamiliar, but he knew that Aragorn would take a different identity. Besides, the description fitted perfectly. "So you have seen him?"

"Yes, I have," the man replied. "But, please, do not be shy, Master Elf, drink your ale. It is my pleasure to serve you."

Legolas cringed inwardly but brought the cup to his lips. The liquid disgusted him, but he had no choice. _At least it tastes better than Lord Elrond's Special Tea_, he thought with a humorless smile. "Please, tell me about Mirdel. When did he leave? Where did he go?"

"It is strange that you are looking for him," the innkeeper said thoughtfully. "He came to my inn and paid for a room for the night, but never used it."

Legolas' eyes widened in alarm. "What happened to him?"

"He stayed smoking in that corner until very late. He left shortly before I closed the inn. I looked through the window because," the man blushed, "because I found him very interesting and wanted to know where he went. I hope you understand, Master Elf, I meant no harm."

Legolas nodded in understanding. He hoped that the man's curiosity would prove fortunate. "Where did he go?"

"He went to the stables. I never saw him come out, he must have left after I went to bed. Next morning I was surprised to see that he hadn't used his room at all, and I never saw him again. But I need to find him, I gave him the key to this room, and he never returned it. Now I cannot use the room. So if you ever find him, please tell him that he owes me a key."

The elf's eyes narrowed in anger. How could this man care about a bloody key when Aragorn was missing? But he had no time to think about that, he was on his feet, running towards the stables. He could hear the innkeeper's voice, calling to him that he had not drunk his ale, but he didn't stop.

Legolas stormed into the stables and looked around wildly. There were a few horses there, and some of them looked at him with interest, but he didn't notice anything unusual. His keen eyes started moving around, carefully scanning every object.

The elf suddenly gasped and fell to his knees. He had found what he was looking for, but he wished that he hadn't. There, on the ground, was a large stain of blood.

His shoulders shook in distress and he placed his hand over the blood. _No! It could not be his blood! It could not!_

"This is where he was."

Legolas looked up in the direction the voice had come from. In front of him stood a girl with long auburn hair, not older than five, looking at him with huge curious eyes. She held a stuffed bear in her hand and was smiling. "Your hair has the color of the bracelet dada gave mama," she whispered.

Under any other circumstances the elf would have smiled. But as it was his spirit was too troubled. "You said 'this is where he was'." He said softly. "_Who_ was here?"

"He," the girl replied simply, as if this explanation was enough. The fair creature looked at her in confusion, so she decided to elaborate. "The man with the beautiful eyes. They were the color of a rainy cloud."

Legolas trembled slightly and his eyes widened in horror. "What happened to him?" He asked urgently. "What did you see?"

"I was here when he entered. I hid behind a pile of straw to watch him." She blushed slightly. "He looked to me like a noble king from a fairy tale." Legolas smiled warmly at that, but his smile swiftly faded as the girl continued. "Then the bad men came. They beat him and hurt him with a knife. He was very brave and fought them back, but then one of them squeezed his throat. Finally he fell asleep and they carried him away."

Legolas' eyes widened and he had to lean on the wall to prevent himself from falling down. He suddenly felt very dizzy and his hands trembled.

_He fell asleep._

What did that mean? Was he unconscious? Or maybe dead?

_They beat him._

_They hurt him with a knife._

_A man squeezed his throat._

Various imaged flashed through the elf's mind, and he felt that his breathing had accelerated. Legolas blinked back his tears. He couldn't give in to fear yet, his friend needed him. He had to be strong.

"Where did they take him?" He asked, trying to control his voice.

"I will show you!" The girl replied eagerly. "Can you save him from the bad men?" There was fear and uncertainty in her voice.

"I hope so," the elf muttered softly. But then his eyes narrowed in firm determination. "Yes, I can," he said, his voice louder this time. "And I will."

The girl beamed at looked at him in admiration. "Come," she called and rushed towards the other end of the stables. "Here!" She pointed at a wooden lid on the floor.

Legolas lifted it and looked down in wonder. There was a hidden tunnel, leading underground. He looked at the girl. "You are a little treasure," he said seriously, and she giggled. "I will be grateful forever. Ask any gift of me, and you will have it.

She hesitated. "Anything?" She asked uncertainly. The elf nodded, and she smiled bravely. "Well, if I… if I could ask of…," she stopped hesitantly and looked at the elf, who nodded encouragingly. "If I could ask of a single strand of your hair…"

Legolas gasped and couldn't help but smile at that. The little girl reminded him so much of Gimli standing before the Lady Galadriel twelve years ago. And just like the Lady, he cut off three golden hairs and laid them in the little palm. He winked at the astonished child and rushed down the dark corridor.

The air was heavy and stinking. The elf wrinkled his nose and ventured forward. Suddenly he caught a movement and unsheathed a short, shining blade. His bow and twin knives had been taken from him when he had been arrested, but Arwen had given him a knife in case he needed it.

Suddenly a young man appeared in front of him and gaped in surprise. He had not heard the elf's soft footsteps. But his reaction was surprisingly quick, and soon he stood before his foe with a short sword in his right hand and a dagger in the left.

Legolas held his dagger in front of him, and his eyes shone dangerously. It was hard to face a sword with a mere knife, but if someone could do that, it was him.

The sword was swung at him, and he quickly ducked to avoid it. He thrust his knife towards the man, but he blocked the blow with his dagger. Their eyes met.

"Where is your captive?" The elf hissed, his voice low and threatening. "What have you done to him?" The man didn't bother answering, and swung his sword towards the elf's chest. Legolas managed to block it with the knife, and grabbed the man's left hand, twisting it painfully. The bandit cried out and dropped his dagger.

The elf crouched swiftly and picked up the fallen weapon. He jumped a step back to regain his posture and faced the man, a blade in each hand.

The bandit trembled in fear, seeing that he had lost his advantage. He took a few steps back, looking for a way to flee, but the elf was upon him. The two blades swung in graceful arcs, and the man fell to the ground, blood gurgling from his throat.

Legolas sighed sadly, he didn't know he would need to kill a man, but it had been necessary. He turned his back to the dying human and took a step forward, not wanting to lose even a second more.

But he didn't see how the bandit gathered his last remaining strength and lifted his sword one last time. The elf cried out in surprise and pain, and fell to the floor, hands pressing against the deep gash in his leg.

He tore a piece of his tunic and pressed it against his wound, trying to stop the heavy bleeding. He knew that the wound was deep and he was not supposed to move his leg, but he could afford no rest. Legolas rose back to his feet and limped forward, trying to ignore the pain.

Finally, he reached a dark metal door. It was locked, but the keys were hanging above it. He unlocked it, and it opened with a crack.

What he saw made the blood run cold in his veins. With a scream of terror he leaned over the prone body and lifted him slightly. The dark-haired head lolled to the side, and the sight made him freeze.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that his friend was still alive, but his sorrow was still great. Slender figures stroked the bruised face and the pale forehead was rested on top of the dark hair.

"I am so sorry, _mellon nin_," the elf whispered unable to hold back his tears, which rolled down and fell on the human's dark tresses. "I did this to you. I did it! Do not forgive me – I cannot bear your forgiveness. I deserve it not."

Finally Legolas lifted his face and brushed away his tears. Tears was not what Aragorn needed right now.

He took off his tunic and tore it into long strips he would use as bandages. The human's body was covered with cuts and bruises, obviously his captors had tortured him, probably to get some information. Legolas carefully bandaged the wounds, but some of them were already showing signs of infection and he knew that his friend would need a proper healer soon.

He took the man in his arms and tried to rise, but his injured leg protested against the new weight. Legolas cursed silently, he had completely forgotten about his own wound. But he would never let it stop him or even slow him down.

Suddenly he felt the human in his arms tense. He looked down to see two pain-filled silver eyes, gazing at him with an indescribable mix of emotions.

"Legolas,…" The whisper was barely audible. "Why?"

The elf gasped and his eyes shone with unshed tears. He knew. _Of course he would have figured it out eventually, he is so clever! What were you thinking?_ But Legolas would have told him, he could swear, he would have told him himself.

"Shh," he placed a finger against his friend's lips. "Rest now, Estel, there will be time to talk about this later, when you are feeling better. Rest now, _mellon nin_, you will be safe, I promise."

_I promise. What right do I have to promise him anything? How can I expect him to trust me again?_

To his horror, Aragorn's eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp in his arms once again. The elf winced and walked forward, his own injury forgotten. He had not taken more than a few steps, however, when his legs buckled and he fell to the ground.

Legolas gritted his teeth and stood up once again. He had to reach the village somehow despite the pain.

He walked out of the secret corridor, more dragging than carrying his friend's body, and entered the stables once again. The little child was gone. One of the horses looked at him and neighed in sympathy. Legolas smiled slightly. "I'm afraid I will need your help, _mellon nin_," he whispered and cut the stallion's ropes, not caring whom he belonged to. He was charged with a fire already, and a charge of stealing a horse wouldn't hurt too much.

Legolas removed the saddle, and after several unsuccessful attempts he managed to place Aragorn on the horse and climbed behind him. He whispered to the steed and watched in fascination as the village came closer.

He rode towards the mayor's house where he knew that Arwen resided. He hoped that she had already been released from the prison where she had stayed in his stead.

Many villagers stared at the elf, but after seeing the fierce look on his face, no one dared approach him. People ran out of his way, and he rode freely forward.

Loud shouts announced his arrival and a large crowd gathered quickly. The mayor and his wife stood in front of the house, and Arwen walked next to them, her face pale and her silver eyes fixed on the motionless body on the horse.

The King was immediately taken to a healer, and guards were sent to arrest the bandits.

And Legolas was led back to the prison.

He had begged the guards to let him stay with his friend, but in spite of Arwen's support, they had refused. The Queen had pleaded them at least to let the elf be seen by a proper healer, but no healer dared to come close enough to the 'magic' creature.

Finally, she had treated his wound herself. "I will send a word to you when he awakens," she had promised, after squeezing his hand reassuringly.

After that he was left alone.

---

**TBC**

_No cliffie this time :-) Happy? It's been a while since I've done that… Thanks for reading!_

9


	3. Lessons

_Thanks for all the reviews! Here is the last chapter. _

_Congrats to __**The Randomer**__, who had a very good theory about what happened… maybe better than my explanation :-)_

_**Chapter 3: Lessons**_

-

Legolas stared in the darkness, absentmindedly playing with tunic. Arwen had given him a new one since he had torn his old one entirely to bandage his friend's wounds.

Every time he heard a noise in the corridor his head snapped up. He waited for the guards to come and tell him that Aragorn had awoken… or that he wouldn't awake. But every single time the noise faded away and nothing happened. Why was it taking so long?

Long ago had he lost track of time. Were it minutes or hours that had passed, he knew not. Was it day or night outside?

Footsteps were heard once again, and the door opened. Legolas jumped and stared at the guard. "Is he awake?" He asked softly, not trusting his voice.

The man shook his head and looked down, afraid to look the elf into the eyes. "We have no news. I am coming to bring you your meal."

Legolas' eyes widened. His meal? Meals to the prisoners were served twice a day – one in the morning and one in the evening. He had missed the morning meal because of his temporary escape. He had brought Aragorn to the healer in the late morning. So it was evening already.

He sat on the floor and buried his head in his hands. Fortunately the guards had not chained him this time, the elf had appeared too broken to attempt any escape.

"How could I?" He whispered softly. "How could I do that?"

Everything he had thought, everything he had planned had gone so wrong. He had never thought that any of this would happen. The mistake he had done was so great and he knew that it could cost him dearly.

Footsteps again. He raised his head, wondering if he could dare hope. But all hope faded when the ones walking passed by his cell.

_I deserve this_, the elf thought sadly. _This punishment is hard, but it is not more severe than the wrong I have done._

Footsteps. The elf's head snapped up instinctively, and he tried to suppress the rising hope in his chest. He would not survive another disappointment.

A key was turned and the thick oak door opened with a crack. Legolas tensed. It could not be time for the morning meal already. Or could it? He had no idea how much time had passed.

Suddenly Legolas gasped and his jaw dropped. He had expected a guard to come and report about Aragorn's condition, he had never expected his friend to come himself.

The two guards, who were supporting their King, helped him enter the cell and carefully eased him down. Legolas rushed to help, but a look from Aragorn made him freeze in his tracks. "Leave us," the King said to his men.

They hesitated briefly, but finally obeyed the order. The door closed, leaving the two friends alone.

_Are you alright, mellon nin? How is your leg? Let me take a look at your wound_, Aragorn would have normally said. But he said none of that, and Legolas knew why.

"I know who burnt the house," Aragorn said instead, his voice unreadable. His friend said nothing, and he continued. "Let me tell you a story about an Elf, Legolas."

The man paused and his eyes had a far away look. "Once upon a time there was an Elf, who foolishly loved to visit various parts of the kingdom where he lived even though he was often met with hatred and fear. Nevertheless, he stubbornly wished to learn more about the people who were so suspicious towards him, and nothing could sate his curiosity.

"One day this Elf came to Teloth. It was just an ordinary village, and the people were resentful towards him as usual. In spite of that, he held nothing against them, thinking that they were not responsible for their ignorance. He never resented any of the villagers, until he met Moris.

"Moris was a greedy and a selfish man. The Elf had met many of those, and he wouldn't have cared, if it wasn't for the man's sick passion for hunting. True, the Elf was a hunter himself, a very skilled one actually, but he never killed an animal unless there was need for food. And every time he killed one, he sang a song to honor it and to guide it's spirit as it left its earthly shell.

"Moris, on the other hand, hunted for mere pleasure. He killed without need, and he often did not even eat what he had shot. His house was decorated with numerous hunting trophies, skins of bears and deer, stuffed with straw. The elf was saddened, not only because of the lives lost in vain, but also because he knew that the animals' spirits could not leave their bodies this way, and would be trapped forever within those prisons of skin and straw.

"He wanted to put an end to that. Unfortunately, no law against hunting existed, and any attempt to find justice would be forfeited. So he had to do it by himself. He knew that if the dead animals were burnt, their spirits would eventually be released and find peace. Furthermore, perhaps if he burnt the man's house, he would destroy the man's weapons, and, hopefully, would make him focus on rebuilding his property instead of on hunting.

"And he did it. Naturally, he made sure that no one was in the house when he set it on fire for he wanted to hurt no one. But the Elf was clever and wanted to make sure he was not discovered. He knew that a full investigation might have eventually led to the truth, so he had to free himself of all suspicion.

"And then an idea came to his mind. Many times before he had been accused of various absurd crimes, and always the King had written a letter, granting his freedom. If the same thing happened now, and he was arrested immediately and without any investigation, his foolish and naïve friend, the King, would assume that this had been caused by prejudice against elves and would release him. Once he had been released by a royal decree, he would be free from any suspicion. So he _wanted_ to be arrested immediately after the fire. This is why he didn't disguise himself and made sure he was seen, thinking that his foolish friend would take the witnesses' claims as products of their fantasies.

"Do you happen to know this Elf, Legolas?" Aragorn's voice was quiet and controlled.

"I cannot change what is past," Legolas whispered, not letting his gaze leave the floor, "but for what it is worth, I am sorry."

"You are sorry?" Aragorn shouted and his calm façade melted away. "You are sorry! How dared you! I would have forgiven the burning of the house! True, I think that was the worst possible way to solve the problem, but I understand why you did it. But why did you lie to me? You shut me out as if I was a stranger to you!"

"I didn't wish to burden you with this, Estel" Legolas said softly and his eyes shimmered in the darkness. "If I had told you, you would have wanted to help me. Then you would have needed to either neglect your laws to help me, or to betray a friend to follow your laws. Both would have hurt you. This was my burden to bear."

"Stubborn elf!" Aragorn sighed in exasperation. "Will you never realize that _your_ burden is _my_ burden as well and always will be?" He paused and his voice turned colder. "I cannot forgive you. You manipulated me, you used me as a pawn in your own game!" His heart suddenly softened when he caught sight of his friend. The elf's slender form was shaking, and he was fighting hard to stop his tears from flowing. His anger slowly subsided, but his pride kept him from admitting it.

"I am sorry, Aragorn. I never thought any of this would happen. I thought you would just write a letter, I would be free, and everything would be alright. I did not even think you would need to come here, and this is why I was even planning to visit you after I was released. I have missed you," he whispered in between suppressed sobs. "I do not ask you to forgive me; I also will never forgive myself. But I ask you to know this – I have never wanted any harm to come upon you."

Aragorn watched his friend, torn inside between pride and forgiveness. At the end, pride won. "Because of you the bandits who planned to rob the mayor's house were arrested," he said. "Probably this will be taken into account at your trial and your punishment will be less severe." The man called for his guards and left the cell before the elf had seen the single tear that had found it's was down his cheek.

Legolas watched the closed door in horror. So his trial would be held after all. He cared not about the punishment, but the fact that his friend had rejected him hurt more than he had ever imagined possible. He could hold his tears no longer and felt to the ground, his face buried in the dirt.

---

Legolas listened dispassionately as a man was reading the charges against him and the proofs that he had set the fire. He listened to the woman who had seen him in the fire give her account of the story. He listened, but he heard nothing. Those were mere sounds that passed through his mind, but it didn't register them. His mind was somewhere else.

The sentence was pronounced and he came out of his trance. Twenty whiplashes.

It would be painful, but he didn't care. He had endured much worse. What hurt him more was that Aragorn was letting this happen. The man was not even present.

But he couldn't blame him. Legolas reminded himself that it was all his fault. He could only hope that one day his friend would forgive him, maybe in years, maybe in decades, but he hoped that this would eventually be only be a memory to laugh at.

The guards held him by the arms and led him forward. He was to be punished.

"Wait!" A melodic female voice suddenly called. All gazes turned back and eyes widened in curiosity. Hushed whispers passed through the crowd. Some had seen her portrait and others knew her not, but they soon learned it. Soon enough everybody present knew that this was Lady Arwen Telcontar, Queen of Gondor and Arnor.

Legolas vigorously shook his head. He should have expected that the kind-hearted _elleth_ would not bear watching him punished, but he was afraid that she would bring her husband's wrath upon her. Obviously Aragorn didn't want him free, and he wanted no one else to get into trouble because of him.

Arwen walked next to Legolas, and an eleven-year-old boy with huge silver eyes and wavy dark hair followed her. Legolas shook his head in shock. The last thing he wanted was to get Eldarion involved.

"You cannot punish him," Arwen said. "He is innocent. I have a new witness."

Whispers passed through the crowd again and everybody tensed.

"The fire was started eight days before the new moon," Arwen said and turned towards the boy. "Eldarion, where were you eight days before the new moon?"

"I was here, in Teloth," the boy stated calmly, and Legolas groaned inwardly.

The crowd hushed in shock. "I didn't know that. I haven't seen him here," the mayor stated in wonder.

"Are you calling my son a liar?" Arwen enquired. Her eyebrow was raised, making her look very much like her father.

"No, no, my Lady!" The man quickly said. "Go on, my lad."

"What did you do on that evening, Eldarion?" Arwen asked.

"I went for a walk in the woods. I was with Uncle Legolas. We spent the entire day together and went back late after sunset."

Loud gasps could be heard coming from all directions. Legolas was completely shocked, there was no way to turn back now. Why did Arwen have to do that?

The mayor cleared his throat. "Well, maybe he is mistaken about the day. He is a mere boy, how could he know when the new moon is?"

"Are you saying that my son is uneducated?" Arwen whispered, and this time both of her eyebrows are raised. The mayor immediately shook his head. "Good. As you can see, there is no way Legolas could have started the fire. Your witness must be mistaken – there are other people with blond hair. Or the one she had seen might have been wearing a wig."

The mayor nodded. There was nothing he could say without offending his Queen, so he quickly ordered the elf to be released.

Legolas limped towards his saviors and Eldarion grinned. "Legolas, thank the Valar that I am here to save you from your mess! Honestly, elf, do you always need to get into trouble? How have you survived before I was born?"

The elf didn't return the smile, and Eldarion's eyes grew grave. "Legolas, I was only jesting! It is much more often you who have helped me!" He stared at his elven friend. The fair creature looked so sad that his heart nearly broke. The child quickly wrapped his arms around Legolas, but the elf didn't return the gesture. He gazed at Arwen instead.

"You shouldn't have done this," he whispered.

Arwen smiled brightly. "But, my friend, I had no choice. I couldn't disobey an order from the King."

Legolas gasped and almost lost his footing. An order from the King? "You… you mean that he…"

Arwen nodded. "He would have witnessed himself, but he had been here for several days and had not spoken anything about being with you, so it would have sounded suspicious. The same applies to me. Eldarion was our only option."

Eldarion released his friend from the embrace, winked at him and smiled brightly. The elf shook his head in disbelief. "Arwen, how come your son is such a good liar?"

The Queen laughed merrily. "He is not only my son, Legolas, he is also the son of a former ranger. And to be a ranger means to be a good actor and be able to fit into many different roles. Estel gave him a proper training."

The elf smiled a true smile for the first time in days. He could easily imagine Aragorn training Eldarion how to act as a witness and lie about being with him.

"You shouldn't linger here," Arwen said suddenly. "He wants to talk to you. Go!"

Legolas smiled and left, a new hope burning in his heart.

---

The man gazed quietly at the flowing river and put aside his pipe. His tall figure was casually leaned against a tree, and his thoughtful face was turned towards the water. Suddenly the softest footsteps were heard and he looked behind. "You are here," he observed when the elf appeared, his voice low and emotionless. "I want to show you something. Are you well enough to walk?" He asked, eyeing Legolas' bandaged leg.

"I am much better than you, human," the fair creature replied teasingly. Suddenly he froze and paled. Was he allowed to talk to Aragorn that way after all that had happened? "I apologize, my Lord Elessar," he murmured quickly and bowed his head in shame.

_I am no lord to you, mellon nin_. Legolas waited for these words, hoped to hear them, but they never came. "Follow me," the man said instead, his voice still void of any emotion.

Aragorn rose and Legolas hastened to his side to help him. The injured man accepted the help and led the elf down the river. "This is what I wanted to show you," he finally said. "Watch!"

Legolas' eyes widened in surprise and incomprehension. They were standing before an anthill. But when he noticed what the ants were doing, he gradually began to understand.

The ants were storing food for the winter. Each of them was carrying something – one was burdened with a straw, another with a wheat seed, a third with a sunflower seed. They were marching slowly towards their home, ready to contribute to the food for the winter with anything they could.

But there was one ant that seemed to be having trouble. It was trying to carry a huge blue grape, about fifty times larger than its own size. It seemed difficult, maybe even impossible. The ant tried lifting it a few times, and was finally about to give up, when another ant joined it. Together, the two lifted the grape and crawled after the others.

"Sometimes a burden is too heavy for one to carry," Aragorn muttered thoughtfully. "But if they share it, it becomes bearable. You should have shared your burden with me, Legolas."

The elf was quiet. He gazed at the ants in awe. It was amazing how he, who was centuries old, could still learn something from those creatures, whose lifespan was no more than three months. "I have to congratulate you," he said softly. "You solved the mystery. I thought I had hidden my tracks well. I am sure I was one of your least probable suspects."

"You weren't a suspect at all," Aragorn replied with the slightest of smiles. "It would have been so much easier if you had told me everything from the very beginning."

"There is another reason I didn't tell you," Legolas whispered, looking away. "I was afraid. I was afraid that you would condemn me, that you would be ashamed of me," he muttered, his voice becoming softer as he spoke. His face was burning with shame, and he blinked to keep the moisture in his eyes from flowing down.

Aragorn gasped and stared at the elf in shock. "How could you even think that!" He said almost angrily. "I would have never condemned you. I might have disagreed with you, but I would have tried to understand you. And I will never, never be ashamed of you, Legolas!"

The elf gaped, it was his turn to be shocked. He gazed into the man's eyes, afraid that he would find mockery there, but the grey orbs were honest and serious. "How is your leg wound healing, _mellon nin_?" Aragorn asked suddenly. "I would like to take a look at it."

Under normal circumstances the elf would have protested and would have claimed that his leg was perfectly alright. But as it was, he cried in joy and relief and tightly wrapped his arms around his friend. "So you have forgiven me?" He asked with a smile. A rough and strong hand caressed his long hair and his smile widened.

"Oh, Legolas," the man whispered softly. "Just how many times do I need to tell you that I cannot be angry with you for more than three minutes? I have forgiven you long ago, _mellon nin_. It was my foolish pride that kept me from telling you this."

"Estel, you are incredible," the elf whispered against his friend's chest. "No one else would have forgiven me this."

Aragorn smiled and pulled the elf closer. "You are wrong, Legolas. Arwen forgave you even earlier. But she has always been wiser than me."

Legolas chuckled. "Well, my unwise friend, if it is going to be any comfort, let me remind you that those ants just turned out to be wiser than me."

"You are right," the man said. "It seems wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age."

"True," Legolas agreed. "A certain human I know will never be wise, no mater how old he gets." He cried in surprise, when he was lightly pushed back.

"Be careful, elf," Aragorn warned, trying to suppress his smile. "We are still in Teloth, I can always change my mind and let you suffer your punishment."

"Oh no, you cannot," Legolas countered smugly.

"I cannot?" The human raised an eyebrow and looked at his friend. "How so?"

"Well, we are both injured and walk slowly," the elf reasoned. "So we both need at least five minutes to go back to the village. But we know that no matter what I say, you cannot be angry at me for more than three minutes, so you would have forgiven me by the time we get there."

Aragorn sighed in surrender, exasperated by his friend's logic. "Very well then," he said. "But I _really_ intent to take a look at your injury."

Legolas was about to protest, but when he looked into his friend's eyes, his words froze at his lips. He smiled gently at the concern he saw there, concern that he had not seen in the grey eyes for a long time. It was an emotion that his friend had tried very hard to hide, replacing it with anger and hurt.

"Agreed, you can look at my leg," he said, much to his friend's surprise. "It is but a minor injury compared to another one I bore. I had a wound much deeper than this, but you cured it completely."

Aragorn smiled knowingly. "I only wish I had never induced it," he said softly, and bent down to examine the wound. "My heart sings to see you smile again."

---

The horses trotted forward, carrying the royal family, the Lord of Ithilien, who had readily agreed to pay his friends a longer visit, and the King's escort towards the White City. The sun was setting and they hoped to reach Minas Tirith before darkness had fallen.

Eldarion yawned and rubbed his stomach. "_Nana_, I am hungry!" He said. "Do you still have some of those strawberry tarts?"

"You ate the whole basket," Arwen reminded him with a fond smile. It was amazing how much a young boy could eat. "But worry not, if we ride hard, we will be home on time for dinner."

"And even if we don't get home on time for dinner, we will not starve," Aragorn said, and everyone looked at him questioningly. "Don't forget that we have a dangerous villain with us, and if we need food, he can always steal a pig." He winked at Legolas.

Eldarion grinned at the guards' shocked expressions, and Legolas blushed and started to protest. But Arwen's musical laughter interrupted him.

"And don't forget, my love," the Queen said, "that even if the pig owners come after us, he can always use his Elven Magic to turn them into scrambled eggs! Then we shall have plenty of food!"

The guards exchanged glances of complete shock, and Eldarion's grin broadened. "Legolas, do you think you could turn our escort into strawberry tarts?" He asked innocently.

The poor men exchanged another glance and slowed down their horses, increasing the distance between themselves and the royal family. Legolas couldn't help but smile. He had to admit to himself that he sometimes enjoyed this.

The walls of the City appeared and the guards breathed a sigh of relief. Aragorn looked at them amused, but slightly angry at their ignorance. But his anger disappeared when he looked at his friend. It was good to see the elf once again, away from prison cells and barred windows. And to see him happy again. It had pained him greatly that he had hurt his friend, but it had seemed inevitable.

Blue eyes locked with his and the elf smiled at the worried gaze. "I will never lie to you, again," he said softly. "I promise. Besides," he added with a shrug, "your mind is to keen and you will will always find out if I try to hide something."

"You also hide your tracks very well," the man admitted. "I have always thought you are exceptionally clever. At least for an elf, that is."

Graceful eyebrows were raised unnaturally high. "Oh? And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I think _ada_ tried to say that elves aren't very clever," Eldarion said with a grin. "Good thing _nana_ didn't hear."

Legolas was about to reply, but suddenly went quiet and gazed at the boy. "Your father is right, Eldarion," he said, almost making Aragorn fall off his horse in surprise. "Elves might live for thousands of years, but they also can made foolish mistakes. There are still some things that they do not know." In his mind he could clearly see the two ants, carrying the heavy burden together. "But they learn," he continued.

_Oh yes, they learn. And I learned. I will never ever lie to you again, mellon nin. Never. I swear in everything I hold dear, I will always speak to you what is on my mind and on my heart. For I know that you will always help me. No, I will never hide anything from you again._ His eyes found the man's and saw the silent understanding. However, Aragorn looked away too soon and missed the mischievous sparkle that had suddenly appeared in the elf's gaze.

_Of course, it doesn't mean that I will never again burn a house if I think it is necessary._

**THE END**

_Note: The idea that animals, whose skins are used for trophies, won't find peace, and their spirits would be freed if they are burnt, is mine, so don't try to find it in the books. Of course, you are welcome to use it in a story if you want, just be aware that it is not canon. As soon as I saw the prompt I wanted to write a story where the last possible suspect would be guilty, and who would be less suspicious than the poor elf :-) But it was hard to come up with a good reason why he would have committed a crime, so I hope this was believable._

_To all readers of "Faces of Darkness": I haven't abandoned it, I was just unable to write for a while (this story was written before I posted the last chapter of FoD, but it was a part of an anonymous contest, and I wasn't allowed to post it before the contest was closed. By the way, you could have found the entire story weeks ago at the Teitho website, and some impatient readers did that.)_

_In this story there are two brief references to other stories of mine - one in chapter one, and one in this chapter. Hugs if you have noticed them ;-)_

_Thanks a lot for reading and feedback is much appreciated!_

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